Between Tinder, Facebook and the rampant hedonism Dubai exudes, it’s never been easier to get a date. Flirting is a second language to this city’s men, most of whom are fluent in the art of sweet nothings and puppy dog eyes. But even the most silver-tongued Casanova doesn’t always get it right. Here’s a list of my favourite chat up fails.
Using the wrong name
A couple of weeks ago I met a guy in Barasti. Despite being a 23-year-old DJ whose primary interests included psychedelic trance and LSD, I gave him my number. Partly because you shouldn’t judge a book by its drug-loving cover, but mostly because it seemed like good manners. True to his word, he dropped me a text the next day. ‘Hey Lisa, how’s it going? Fancy coming to one of my DJ nights?” I didn’t. Having your eardrums set on fire with a blowtorch sounds preferable to a night of psychedelic trance music. But even if he’d offered to cook me cauliflower cheese and let me lick the inside of the pan, I still wouldn’t have gone. Read the signs, boys. If you want to see her naked, learn her name.
Not using her name (even when you know it)
Nothing says ‘template text’ like ‘hey gorgeous, how u doin?’ Men think they’re setting themselves up for naked time with their flirty charm and compliments. We think they’re giant ass hats. Assuming you’re using a dating website, her name should be right up there in big fat shiny letters. Read it. Use it. Spell it correctly. Demonstrating that you’re functionally illiterate before the first date is a deal breaker for most girls. Sorry about that.
Sleazing it up
I fell from heaven. My eyes are LUMINOUS. I must be a Capricorn because you’re like, totally feeling this amazing connection to me. (I’m not by the way.) Whatever cheesy crap you can dream up, we’ve heard it before. About 30 times. So yea, her bottom might be peachier than Kylie’s, but it’s worth putting in the groundwork before you mention it.
Being a drunken weirdo
As it’s one of my favourite chat up fails of all time, I thought I’d resurrect an old story. Last year I was sat in a bar with my friend when a man walked drunkenly staggered over to us. After several minutes of chat, I got up to visit the bathroom. When I returned my Romeo was examining me with a thoughtful expression on his face.
The conversation that followed went something like this:
Him: “I wasn’t sure about you at first because I usually go for really pretty girls. But when you turned around, I noticed that you had a really nice ass.” *Pauses for me digest this gem of a compliment*
Him again: “Do you want to come back to mine?” *Pauses again, oblivious to incredulous expression on my face*
Him again: “The last girl I was seeing liked me to put stuff up her bum but don’t worry, we don’t have to do that if you don’t want to.”
Me: As delightful an offer as that was, I think I’ll pass.
Him: Are you sure?
Nothing could have made me surer. Moral of the story? There’s a thin line between dutch courage and drunken idiocy. Don’t cross it.
“Hey girl, great outfit. Not sure if the shoes work though…” We get it. You read The Game and now you’re undermining a woman’s self-confidence for a shot an easy lay. Slow clap for the 15-year-old boy trapped in a man’s body. The problem is, negging’s all a bit 2008. So why not try something new? Like making her laugh? (This one works like a charm. I PROMISE.)
Asking if your boobs are real before asking your name
Yes they are. And no, you can’t touch them.